


Meeting a Companion in Falkreath

by DeeNomilk



Series: Tashok the Dragonborn [3]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, I can't tag I'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 09:23:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17722517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeeNomilk/pseuds/DeeNomilk
Summary: Upon receiving a strange letter from the Jarl of Falkreath, Tashok decides to go meet the man in order to find out what he wants from her. While waiting for the next morning to come in the Inn, she meets a fellow from Cyrodiil.





	Meeting a Companion in Falkreath

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter, along with many more I'm sure, features Lucien Flavius, a mod follower by Joseph Russell. You can get him here: https://www.nexusmods.com/skyrimspecialedition/mods/20035 
> 
> I highly recommend it as he's an absolute gem to have around, here's a youtube video review: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zU7wu_afu2I&t=1s

Tashok almost misses her lips with her mug due to being too absorbed re-reading the letter she had recently received. Somehow, she doesn’t know how, the Jarl of Falkreath had heard of her and sent a letter addressed specifically to her. How he knew her after being less than a week in Skyrim and nowhere near the Falkreath region, if her map is to be trusted, or how the courier found her in Whiterun, is a mystery. She’d decided to make her way to the hold, but it was already quite late by the time she made it to the gates, and so had opted to stay at the local inn.

She’s brought out of her musings by a young man approaching her.

“Excuse me ma’am, do you have a moment?” he asks nervously.

She turns to look at the speaker. A young Imperial in relatively high quality clothing, leaning towards her ever so slightly. He can't be much more older that herself.

“Of course.” she motions to the empty spot next to her on the bench.

“I’m Lucien Flavius.” he introduces himself. “I’m a scientist, philosopher, amateur wizard and musician, though I suppose that’s more of a hobby...”

“How lovely!”

She smiles at the mention of music. She may not have much talent with musical instruments, most likely because she never truly tried to learn it properly, but songs were an easy way to entertain herself when gathering ingredients outside the city.

“I couldn’t help noticing that you seem… how do I put this…" the Imperial - Lucien, hesitates. "Well acquainted with the less savoury side of Skyrim?”

Tashok’s ears visibly droop down as she winces.

“Oh no… It’s the eye-patch, isn’t it?” she reaches to it and pulls it off, revealing a black eye in the later stages of healing. She eyes it with a pout. “I covered it with a healing cream to speed up the process but now it just looks like I’m some sort of thug…”

“No!” Lucien interjects. “Not at all it’s just…”

Then if it’s not the eye-patch…

“Is it because I’m an Orc?” she glances at Lucien apprehensively.

“No, no!” he raises his hands in defense. “It’s just… you’re wearing armour, you have a dagger at your waist and a bow at your back and just seem, well… Generally prepared for trouble.”

Tashok's mouth makes a small O shape, then she gathers herself.

“Well… I suppose I have seen a few things since I got here. Why? Did you need help?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. I’m here in Skyrim on an expedition — academic mainly. I find the province simply fascinating! The flora, the fauna, the ruins — both Dwemer and Nordic — the architecture, the politics… Trouble is I’m not much of a fighter. I know a few spells and can just about swing a sword, but beyond that I’m pretty useless in combat.”

“Have you been in many fights before?”

“Well, uh… No, not really.”

“Well then, you never know. You could be quite the warrior.”

“Right. Still, Skyrim’s no place for a… ‘milk-drinker’ like me — not on my own anyway. So I’m looking for someone to travel with.”

“And that would be where I come in?”

“Yes! Well, I suppose what I’m asking is, would you mind if I… tag along? I would compensate you most handsomely for putting up with me.”

Before Tashok can comment that he seems like a pleasant fellow, he continues quickly.

“I would give you, say… Three hundred septics up front?” he offers. “After that I’ll top you off every time we come across something useful to my research. At your discretion, of course. No obligations, save that you take me with you, and assist in keeping me alive whenever possible.”

“I…” Tashok blinks at the ludicrous amount of money for… having a companion tag along? “Sure. I don’t think I’m much of a bodyguard, but there’s certainly safety in numbers.”

“A travel companion, exactly!”

“Yes!”

“Right!”

The two of them fall in a small silence, neither really knowing enough about the other to make good conversation. Yet.

“I’m Tashok, by the way!” she breaks the silence.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you!” he says. “So what brings you here? Do you live near Falkreath?”

“Not one bit.” Tashok takes a sip of her mead. “The Jarl sent me a letter when I was in Whiterun. Says he wants to speak to me.”

“Impressive! What about?”

“It didn’t say, I guess I’ll find out tomorrow.”

—

What the Jarl wanted, as it turns out, was for her to go kill a bandit leader he’d been in cahoots with until the leader decided paying him wasn’t worth it. It seems the Jarl learned of her making short work of the marauders back in Windhelm, and decided she was a good candidate for the job of cleaning up his mess.

She had half a mind to tell the Jarl to shove it for knowingly allowing bandits to roam in exchange for money, but she acquiesced in order to make sure the bandits would no longer be able to target innocent travellers.

What she hadn’t expected was for Lucien to tag along.

“Lucien, duck!” she yells out before unleashing an arrow towards a bandit that was getting _much_ too close to her new companion.

“Goodness me…” Lucien gasps. “These people aren’t very friendly, are they? I suppose we did attack them…”

He sends a stream of flames towards the last bandit, distracting him enough for Tashok to finish him off.

“You didn’t have to come along…” she nears him and heals the few wounds he sustained during the fight. “I thought the point of travelling with me was to keep you alive.”

“Well, I couldn’t just let you take an entire bandit camp on your own!” Lucien explains. “Why did you even agree to this?”

Why did she agree to this? 

“I don’t know…" she sounds abashed. "I was hoping it’d help people… Guess I have a bit of hard time saying no to people.”

"Oh."

The tone in which the syllable is uttered makes Tashok look back to her companion's face. He seems uncertain.

“I hope you didn’t agree to my proposal because you thought you couldn’t refuse.” he glances to down.

“No! I like being of use, and I’m glad to finally have the company of a person. Pearl is great and all, but he’s a cat.”

“Yes, I suppose he doesn’t allow for the most riveting conversations.”

“No — his thing is mostly being adorable and soft.”

The two of them saunter off back to Falkreath to collect their reward.

A few conversations later and Tashok now has a real, specific goal in mind: get enough money to buy land and build a home so she can house Sofie in the safe and warm home she deserves.

“Then I suppose we should get going!” Lucien encourages her. “I’m sure there’s plenty of ways to make a profit in this province.”

“Yes, let’s.” Tashok smiles at his amicable ways. “And I’m sure we’ll discover some of Skyrim along the way. Win-win!”

“I’m quite excited! Do you think we’ll see a lot of ruins?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t been here for long, but I did see quite a few on my way here.”

“Not been here long... What brought you to Skyrim?”

“Oh you know…”

Tashok waves her hands in the air, no willing to admit she was running away from her past. From her place in society.

“Curiosity.” she says.

“You could say that’s what brought me here as well!” thankfully Lucien seems quite happy to elaborate on his motivations compared to her. “Well, there’s plenty of things. The culture, the architecture, but most of all, the enormous Dwemer presence.”

“Is that so?” she didn’t really know much about the Dwemer, except that they were master engineers and all disappeared.

“Absolutely! The technology the Dwarves possessed all those years ago is miles beyond us, even today! The chance to study it in person… I just couldn’t resist!”

“I’ll bet! Anywhere in particular you’d like to see? I’ll make sure to try and find it.”

“Now that you mention it, I suppose there is! Somewhere here in Skyrim there’s a Dwemer ruin called Dumzbthar. I came across a text referring to it in my last few months at the Arcane University.”

“You got to study magic?! That’s incredible! I came here hoping to learn more about alchemy — it’s what I’m best at, but I wouldn’t mind honing my magic a bit.”

“Alchemy you say?”

“Yes! What’s a bummer is I don’t know much of the alchemical properties that the flora and fauna in Skyrim offers, and I almost feel like a beginner again. But I bought this book that talks about some of the common ingredients. I noticed the snowberries, and I think I might be able to whip up something real nice...”

“And what would that be?”

“A warmth balm! I know that purple mountain flowers make an excellent ingredient for it, but unfortunately none of the other ingredients I usually mix it with are available here. But I think that if I can get my hands on some fat or oil, I could mix them up to make a mixture that feels warm to the touch.”

“Oh, that sounds lovely. Especially here in Skyrim.”

“I know!" her voice trembles with excitement. "The apothecary in Whiterun allows me to use her alchemy lab, so I’m hoping to make it sometimes soon.”

“When you do, would you mind making me some as well?”

“Absolutely. I’d especially like feedback.”

“I’ll be happy to give it!”

Tashok smiles warmly. There’s something about this person that makes her feel at ease, and she hopes they can become friends quickly.

—

Lucien’s very kind and amicable. Tashok notices this quickly and is delighted to see he approves of her many distractions, especially when they include helping others.

In this case, she’s currently trying to convince a farmer to help a stranded jester with a broken wagon.

“Oh for the love of Mara, what now?” the farmer grumbles.

“The uh, fellow over there needs your help with his wagon.” Tashok explains. “The wheel broke.”

“That Cicero feller? Tell me something I don’t know. Crazy fool’s already asked me about five times. Seems he’s not satisfied with my answers. Why can’t he just, leave us alone?”

“Because he can't leave? Where is he supposed to go with a broken wheel?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care. I just want him to leave us be.”

“I don’t see what the problem is. I’m sure he’ll compensate you for your time.”

“You think this is about money?!”

Tashok doesn’t know why the farmer is so reluctant to help out another, so she waits for him to continue.

“Have you seen the man? He’s completely out of his head.” the farmer rants. “A jester, here in Skyrim? Ain’t been a merryman in these parts for a hundred years.”

“So?” Tashok quirks an eyebrow.

“He’s transporting some giant box... Says it’s a coffin, and he’s going to bury his mother. Mother my eye… He could have anything in there! War contraband. Weapons. Skooma… Ain’t no way I’m getting involved in any of that.”

“He’s a stranger who needs help." she folds her arms across her chest. "You should do the right thing and lend a hand.”

This seems to only irk the farmer even more.

“What?!” he scoffs. “And who in the name of Mara are you anyway? Hmm? Come here, telling me my business. And for what? To help a… a… a fool!

“If you won’t help him I’ll buy or rent your tools and do it myself!” Tashok plants her feet firmly into the ground and brings her fists to her hips. “You know it’s the right thing to do.”

Either her firmness or her words must have resonated with the man, as his expression softens and morphs into something closer to guilt.

“ Look, I... I…” he hesitates. “You’re right. You're right. Feller might be nutters, might not. But fact is, he needs help. I turn him away, what kind of man am I, hmm? Look, um... Thanks. And I'm sorry for my unneighbourly reaction. If you talk to Cicero, you be sure and tell him I'll be down to help soon.”

“Will do.” Tashok huffs. “Thank you.”

She rushes down the small hill and reaches the jester.

“Good news!” she chirps. “I’ve talked to Loreius, he’s agreed to fix the wheel.”

“You… You did?!” the jester sounds surprised. “He has?”

A small nod.

“Oh stranger! You have made Cicero so happy! So jubilant and ecstatic! But more! Even more! My mother thanks you!” he sing-songs as he begins to dance. “Here, here. For your troubles! Shiny, clinky gold!”

“Oh, no, that’s alright, I-” Tashok holds out her hand but the jester slips the pouch into her hands with shocking speed.

“Nonsense! A few coins for your kind deed!” he continues. “And thank you! Thank you again.”

“You’re welcome…” Tashok waves him goodbye before continuing down the road back to Windhelm.

“That was nice, what you did for Cicero.” Lucien tells her. “I’m glad we helped him.”

“As am I, who knows how long he would’ve been standing there otherwise... Funny fellow, though."

"Isn't that his job?" Lucien smirks.

They continue on with small conversations, occasionally discussing the various sights before setting up camp for the night.

Tashok has begun counting a few septims and putting them away into a separate pouch.

“Saving money for your future home?” Lucien asks between two bites of bread.

“It’s for Sofie, the girl in Windhelm…” Tashok doesn’t steer her eyes from the money. “I’m trying to put some on the side so she can stay at the inn for some time… At least until I have enough to get us a home.”

“You’re quite fond of her, aren’t you?”

Tashok finally peels her gaze from her coins and looks at Lucien.

“Yes, well… She’s quite charming, really.” she explains, before adding. “Besides, no child should be on the streets.”

“That we can agree on.” Lucien sighs. “I’m glad you’re going to give her a home. I’ll do my best to help you built it! Though I can’t say I’m very good at architecture…”

Tashok chuckles.

“Neither am I…” she admits. “Who knows… We might be able to figure it out ourselves. Maybe there's a book we can find.”

Somehow conversation comes easily to the two of them, their words floating through the air with ease as they make their way through the roads of Skryim.

Tashok could get used to this.


End file.
